


Bound

by Zaniida



Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Consensual Mind Control, Existential Angst, Gen, I'm too tired to tag competently, Mazoku don't value freedom, Mind Games (Sorta), Not Canon Compliant - Seasons 4-5, desperate plans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaniida/pseuds/Zaniida
Summary: “This ring has power over me, to force me to do… well, almost anything, really.  With it, you could make me submit to your will, a few moments at a time.”“What possible reason could you have to let me control you?”“It may help ensure the least harmful outcome for both of us, as well as for those in this world that we value.”“So now you’re threatening my friends.”“Somewhat the opposite, in fact.  I will be describing a threat that exists, and attempting, with your help, to ensure that it is neutralized.”
Relationships: Zelgadis Greywords & Xellos
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsutsuji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsutsuji/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bind](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/546793) by Irk. 
  * Inspired by [Word of Subjugation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/96098) by [tsutsuji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsutsuji/pseuds/tsutsuji). 



> **Adviso:** For those not aware, I tag the age-rating (General, Teen+, Mature, Explicit) based on more than just how detailed the sex gets. This fic isn't going to have any sexual relationships at all. It's rated Mature because the issues discussed might get a bit, well, _mature_. In the broader sense of the term. Once I'm a few chapters in, I'll likely have a better idea of whether I could drop the rating down to Teen or ought to leave it at Mature.
> 
> Anyway.
> 
> I started writing this just before encountering _Dangerous If Unbound_ (by astolat -- and no relation to this fic, despite the similar titles) and getting sucked into the _Person of Interest_ fandom. It was always my intention to publish this eventually, but I haven't really had time to work on anything outside my main two fandoms (POI and the MCU). So don't expect this to update any time soon, but I do have the progression sketched out somewhere in my notes, so I know where the idea is heading.
> 
> (Also, is anyone else annoyed by AO3 clocking everything in by East Coast time? It's only 9 PM here, and yet I'm going to have to hit the "Set a different publication date" thing just to get it to officially post on the first day of the new year. Yargh.)
> 
> Anyway, as I was drafting this out the first time, I had not yet watched Seasons 4 and 5 of _Slayers_. While I thoroughly enjoyed those seasons*, they did throw a roadblock my way: Apparently, canonical Mazoku are fierce individualists, to the point of having their very existence threatened if they don't assert enough self-determination. Which kinda undermines the entire premise of this fic. Hence the "Canon Non-Compliance" tag: Mazoku in this fic are quite the other way, beholden to their masters in a way that humans can barely conceive of.
> 
> * _Especially a more fitting voice actor for the dubbed Xellos! While I generally watch subs rather than dubs, David Moo is the reason I could never enjoy the dubbed Xellos at all. Moo's Xellos only ever felt like a joke, and drained all the drama out of the serious scenes; it took Michael Sinterniklaas to capture his debonair side, showing off his devilish charm_.
> 
> I've gifted this fic to **tsutsuji** , probably my favorite _Slayers_ author at the moment. I'm sure there are other authors who meant more to me when I was thoroughly invested in the fandom (well over a decade ago), but I quite enjoy tsutsuji's work and keep returning to it, most notably [Poison](https://archiveofourown.org/works/96102/chapters/131523); it's one of the more intriguing pieces I've come across, in terms of worldbuilding and putting Xellos on the defensive while he still hides behind a smile (most of the time). Taking super-powerful characters and making them physically and emotionally vulnerable is my bread and butter (most notably Loki (MCU), Q (ST:TNG), Spike (BtVS), Inu Yasha, and Discord (FIM)).
> 
> But this fic borrows ideas from another of tsutsuji's pieces, [Word of Subjugation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/96098/chapters/131505), wherein Zelgadis gets the drop on Xellos and gets him under his power. The keyword comes from that fic (I sought for other possibilities, but couldn't think up a better one in time; maybe I'll change it later), as does the general idea of controlling Xellos via magical compulsion.
> 
> The bulk of the idea, though, comes from [Bind](http://slayers.destructve.com/Fanfiction/Approved/Irk/bind1b.htm), by Irk, which is (as far as I could find) not hosted on AO3 or on any of the communal/archive sites I'm familiar with. Discussing the details would be more spoilery, so they'll be in the End Note.
> 
> I've lost track of which day it is on the Twelve Days of Christmas run, but this is somewhere in that lot. I'd hoped to publish my Yearly Retrospective yesterday, and then again tonight, but I couldn't complete it in time (though I've got a lot drafted out). Hope it'll go up in the next day or two.

When Xellos appeared, Zelgadis sighed and started packing up his gear. It had been such a nice cave, too—far up a cliffside and well out of reach of townsfolk or adventurers. Peaceful and secure.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

“Leaving just because I showed up?” Xellos asked cheerfully. “And here I was about to attempt the unthinkable.”

Zelgadis paused. “Do I want to know what _you_ consider ‘unthinkable’?”

“Perhaps,” Xellos said, and hummed. “Put up your strongest astral wards and we’ll see.”

Scoffing, Zelgadis went back to packing up his bedroll.

“It really is a nice cave,” Xellos mused, strolling around. “Hundreds of thousands of people passing by every year, and few of them even bother to look up. Those that do wouldn’t even spot the entrance.”

“Yeah, well, the solitude was nice, while it lasted.”

“In a way, it makes this whole thing easier.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“Oddly enough, for once, I haven’t sought you out on a whim. If you ward this cave against—”

“Put up your own wards, if it matters that much to you.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do,” Xellos said with a sigh. “And as I can’t explain why—”

“—because it’s a secret?”

“Because it’s part of the reason I need you to ward it in the first place. I know I can hardly expect you to trust me, but—”

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” Zelgadis grumped. He took a seat on a ledge jutting out from the wall, and closed his eyes, beginning his meditation breathing.

Xellos blinked. “Huh. I actually thought you’d take more convincing.”

“The sooner you explain,” Zelgadis murmured, “the sooner I can laugh in your face and leave.”

“Ah. Carry on, then.”

The next ten minutes passed in relative silence, as Xellos wandered around and Zelgadis moved through the astral plane, effectively separating the area from the awareness of whoever might be looking toward it from afar.

Finally, Zelgadis let out a breath, opened his eyes, and glared at Xellos. “Satisfied?”

“You’re quite thorough,” Xellos said with a smile somewhat tighter than his trademark smirk. He didn’t seek out a seat, but stood before Zelgadis, regarding him for a long moment. “You know,” he said at last, “out of all the humans I’ve spent time observing, you’re easily one of the most intelligent.”

Zelgadis narrowed his eyes. “If you think—”

“Ah ah ah,” Xellos cut him off, wagging a finger at him. “That’s not flattery, but fact.” He tapped the finger against his lips, pensively. “Unfortunately, you’re also easy to anger, and prone to rash actions when your emotions get the better of you. In this case, such lack of control could prove disastrous.”

Zelgadis’s lips drew back into a dark grin. “If you already suspect that I’ll fly into a rage, why not skip the middle part and get straight to the battle?” As if itching to get started, his fingers tapped along the hilt of his sword.

“As enjoyable as that sounds, I’m afraid we can’t indulge. Draining your magical reserves would turn the unthinkable into the impossible. If you could hear me out?”

Sighing, Zelgadis let go of his sword and folded his arms. “Why not? Even camping in an inaccessible cave isn’t enough to get rid of you.”

“Mm. Now, to begin with,” Xellos said, “I would like to remind you that you are not powerful enough to do me any serious harm. And whatever you might think of my intentions, I’ve no desire to do you harm; in fact, allowing you to come to harm would run completely counter to my goals.”

“Well, at least that’s _one_ goal we share.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how closely my goals align with yours right now. So it is to everyone’s benefit if you could refrain from acting on your emotions before you fully understand the nature of the matter at hand.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe our objectives could be that similar.”

Xellos shrugged. “The matter will become clear. Now, while I explain, I would ask that you steel yourself to withhold your anger, and ask yourself three questions that may help ensure the least harmful outcome for both of us, as well as for those in this world that we value.”

“So now you’re threatening my friends.”

“Not at all,” Xellos countered, expression as enigmatic as ever. “Somewhat the opposite, in fact. I will be describing a threat that exists, and attempting, with your help, to ensure that it is neutralized.”

“With the most altruistic of intentions, I’m sure.”

“My intentions do not change the nature of the threat,” Xellos said reasonably. “Are you prepared to hear it?”

Zelgadis glared. “You know, if this turns out to be a joke, I’m going to remember the new verses that Amelia wrote for her ‘Life Is Wonderful’ song. She’s up to a few dozen by now, every bit as chirpy as the first ones; I spent a month trying to drive them out of my brain. So if you’re just doing this for a laugh, you might as well spare both of us the agony and just leave.”

“Oh, if you delay long enough, Zelgadis-san, the problem will likely solve itself.” Xellos lowered his head, suddenly absent all his usual good humor. “And I can promise you that you will not like the solution.”

A frisson of fear went through Zelgadis, who swallowed heavily. “Fine! Fine. Get on with it.”

“Three questions; try to keep them in mind. Why did I come to you in the first place? Why am I telling you all this? Why did I choose to do it in this specific way?”

“Why did you… wait.” Zelgadis paused, and narrowed his eyes. “In other words: Why didn’t you go to someone else instead of me?”

“Yes.”

“And the second presumes that you’ll actually be telling me something that you wouldn’t otherwise tell me. For a change.”

“Yes.”

“And the third… you’re going to do something odd. Even for you.”

“You’re on the right track, Zelgadis-san,” Xellos said, his smile partially back. “Are you familiar with the Ring of Frentrillia?”

“What, the lost trinket that supposedly could control the weaker Mazoku?”

“It was never _lost_ ,” Xellos corrected, looking slightly put out. “Do you honestly think an artifact of such power could stay hidden for long? We had reasons not to destroy it, but we always kept an eye on it.”

Leaning back, Zelgadis laced his fingers behind his head. “So I’m off on another wild goose chase, is that what you’re saying?”

Xellos made a moue. “Oh, not at all. I have it here.”

And then Zelgadis was leaning forward again, eyes wide at the power that radiated off the small green-and-silver ring in Xellos’s hand.

“Were this ring in its original state,” Xellos mused, studying the ring and rolling it between his fingers, “you would not sense nearly so much power from it. I’ve had to alter it.”

Knowing that even his enhanced speed wasn’t enough to catch Xellos off-guard, Zelgadis resisted the urge to try to grab the ring. Despite the fact that it was clearly magical, it probably wasn’t what he said it was, anyway. “I didn’t think you’d need a ring to get the lower Mazoku to obey you.”

“Oh, I don’t,” Xellos said. “Those under me obey as part of their nature; those under others obey out of fear, at least enough for my purposes.” He frowned. “No, you’re the one who needs it. Not to control them, but to control _me_.”

For a moment, Zelgadis sat stunned. Then he laughed. “You’re getting _old_ , Xellos,” he said, shaking his head. “Your tricks used to be far less transparent.”

“Its power is limited,” Xellos went on, as if not hearing him. “It will no longer affect other Mazoku, only me—and briefly, a few minutes at most. Only with these limitations was I able to convince myself that I could hand it to a human without betraying my race.”

“What, I get to make you lick my boots for a couple of minutes? Are you that eager for humiliation? You might at least have given me three wishes.”

“You think unlimited power over me is such a light thing? Of all Mazoku who walk the earth, there is none more powerful than I. Where the other Lords among the Five invested their power in creating both a General and a Priest, my mistress invested her power solely in me.”

“Yeah, and in a few minutes I’m going to have you licking my boots. Not that I actually believe the ring’s going to work on you. More likely it’s cursed, and the minute I touch it you’re gonna have a great laugh at my expense, and then I’m going to have to get my revenge by singing a song that sets my teeth on edge, but hey, go on with this charade.”

Xellos sighed. “Zelgadis-san, what were those three questions again?”

“What?”

“The questions you were to bear in mind.”

“Oh. Ugh. Why you’re telling me. What you’re trying to do. How stupid I’m going to look—”

“Why I came to you, and not to anyone else. Why I have chosen to give you information that I normally would hide.”

“And why you’re doing something unusual. Right.”

“And what I am telling you, Zelgadis-san, is that this ring has power over me, to force me to do… well, almost anything, really. If you had this ring, and the word to activate it, then you could make me submit to your will, a few moments at a time.”

“Wait. It’s not a one-use item?”

“You would be able to use it as often as you like; it’s just that the effects of any particular command wear off rather quickly. Three or four minutes, perhaps; I obviously haven’t been able to test it.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I assure you, I’ve never been more serious.”

“What possible reason could you have to let me control you?”

Sighing, Xellos slipped the ring away—Zelgadis felt almost bereft as the sense of power faded—and took a seat on the ledge. For a long moment, he seemed almost troubled, as if searching for words he couldn’t find.

“You share a nature with me, Zelgadis-san,” he said, finally, “but you were born human. An individual, with free will, beholden to no one. Your life, short as it might have been, was entirely in your hands. This is a peculiarly human trait.

“For the Mazoku, it is hard to imagine being so separate, cut off from the rest of us. We are never _free_ , never _alone_. My Mistress created me from her own essence, which binds me to her still, just as she is bound to Lord Ruby-Eye.”

“Are you saying I’m somehow bound—”

“No, no,” Xellos assured him. “You’re… a mixture. It’s one of the reasons I find you so fascinating. Other Mazoku would die along with their masters, or wither away in their absence, even go insane. Yet you remain, long after the one who created you is gone.” He turned to face Zelgadis, and, though his eyes were still closed, Zelgadis felt uncomfortably laid open beneath his gaze. “I can’t be certain, but I believe that the human and golem parts of you hold the Mazoku part together; in a way, you have become _your own_ master.”

“How reassuring.”

“You mock, and yet, you are more distressed by the thought of enslavement than by the thought of freedom. For us, though… to be cut off from your source of power, to be… separate, set apart… individual… I know these concepts, I can put them into words, but… how you can stand to be alone like this, it’s beyond me.”

“Are you trying to say that you’re lonely? Is that why you bug me so much?”

“Lonely?” Xellos’s eyes flew open, and he shook his head. “The power of my Mistress flows through me; I am ever aware of her presence and her will. Thus it has been since the moment of my creation.”

“So, what, her power is your life force or something?”

“Mmm… conceptually, I suppose you’re not far off. I do not rely on her powers to exist, but to understand and fulfill my function.”

“Huh?”

“Throughout my existence, I have been at the whim of my Mistress; her will is my will, and I am free only in how I choose to execute that will, since I am here on the mortal plane and see many factors that she is less aware of. The very idea of a Mazoku acting entirely on their own is, well—quite literally— _unthinkable_.”

“I seem to recall Gaav and Valgaav getting along just fine without a master.”

“Neither was entirely Mazoku,” Xellos countered. “Just as you started out human, Valgaav started out as an Ancient Dragon; his Mazoku nature was bestowed upon him. And Gaav was one of the Five, but he was corrupted, constrained by his human form, until his goals were so alien to us that they seemed like nothing short of madness.”

“Not gonna disagree with you about the madness,” Zelgadis said. “But if you’re able to talk about all this, how are these concepts ‘unthinkable’? You can’t imagine yourself ever acting like Gaav did?”

“No,” Xellos said sharply, his smile edging more toward a strained grimace. “In fact, getting this far has taken something akin to madness, and I am not certain how much longer I’ll be able to keep this up. Balancing my internal reality in a way that makes sense to my loyalties is taking a considerable amount of effort right now. There are… factors, that I need you to understand, but that I cannot speak. I truly hope you are intelligent enough to grasp them.”

“So it’s a guessing game, then?” Zelgadis huffed. “Why is everything always a game with you?”

“Given these stakes, the ‘game’ could hardly be more serious.” His face oddly blank, Xellos looked away. “By allowing you to have this ring, I will be starting a chain of events whose end is beyond even imagining, skilled as I am at long-term strategy. But I can see no better plan.

“And the first three steps are these: Order me not to flee. Order me to tell you the next logical step. And then order me to tell you what’s going on.”

“All right, let’s get this charade over with.”

“The first three steps. You must have them in your head.”

“‘Don’t flee’, ‘tell me what’s going on’—”

“No, there’s a step between,” Xellos said, staring fixedly across the room, his breath—and only now did Zelgadis notice this—completely absent. Usually Xellos kept up the appearance of being mortal, down to details such as travel-worn clothing and even sweat; the sudden absence of one such detail was unexpectedly chilling.

“‘Don’t flee’, ‘tell me the missing step’,” Zelgadis corrected himself, “and _then_ tell me what the hell is going on.”

The ring gleamed between Xellos’ fingers again, and Zelgadis felt the power surging out from such a tiny relic. This time, Xellos didn’t toy with it, but contemplated it with all the intensity of a jeweler inspecting his wares.

“There’s a keyword,” Xellos murmured. “I can’t tell you what it is, but—”

“And what, if I can’t guess it in time, you’ll take it back and laugh at me for trying?” He wasn’t about to delude himself; if Xellos wanted the ring back, Zelgadis was neither fast enough nor strong enough to keep it from him.

Which didn’t explain why Xellos was making no move to hand it over.

“I will… I _intend_ to… give you as much time as I can, but… you cannot have the slightest idea of how hard it is for me to stay here, to go through with this plan, as everything within me rebels against the idea.”

Suddenly, Zelgadis wondered if the absence of breath said as much for Mazoku as _too much_ breathing did for humans. Was Xellos inwardly freaking out?

What could make a Mazoku—the _strongest_ Mazoku, at least of those at work in the mortal realm—freak out?

“You’re really having trouble with this, aren’t you?” Zelgadis said slowly, not even sure how much he could believe that. But then, in a flash of insight, he concluded: “And it’s just going to get worse once I have the ring.”

“I’m trying not to think about that,” Xellos said flatly. “Literally. It is taking an incredible amount of concentration and willpower to remain here. Your first order _has to be_ that I remain.”

“After I figure out the keyword.”

“Indeed.” Glancing back at him, Xellos flashed him a smile as bright as any he’d ever had. “I do hope you’re as sharp as I expect you to be; we haven’t much time.” Then his face grew somber again. “This is the best plan that I could come up with,” he added, as if to himself. “The only plan that makes any of this possible. It’s the only way—the _only_ way. I must submit. I _must_ submit.”

Repeating the words, as if some sort of weird mantra, he placed the ring on the outcropping between them, and pointedly turned his back.

“I must submit,” he continued. “There is no other way, there is no other plan—”

For a moment, Zelgadis resisted the urge to reach for the ring. It was still more likely to be a trap, or a prank, than to be real, and yet there was no discounting the waves of power that emanated from the tiny relic lying there on the stone. And even if Xellos were pulling another prank, how likely was it that Zelgadis might be able to avoid it?

Silently, he snatched up the ring and put it on. It fit surprisingly well; Zelgadis narrowed his eyes, wondering how Xellos had gotten his measurements.

“I assume you’re the one who chose the keyword,” Zelgadis mused aloud, “so it’s gotta be something that you expect me to be able to guess. Maybe one of our names? Xellos, Lina… or Trickster Priest?” He chuckled darkly. “Kisama?”

Stiffly, Xellos shook his head, but he didn’t make a sound or look back.

“Maybe the ring’s name? Frentrillia?” When that didn’t get a reaction, he frowned. “Some word related to our adventures together?”

Xellos shook his head again.

“Maybe ‘that is a secret’?” Nothing. “Is it a word I’m likely to say just in general? What sort of words do I use?” He started to ponder that, but was cut short by another headshake, this one even smaller and more stiff; Xellos was hunched over, and Zelgadis realized that he surely didn’t have much time left.

“Damn it!” he cried. “How the hell do I make you submit?”

The ring flashed, and Xellos’s gasp cut the air; he straightened up, tense and trembling.

“Wait… did that do it? Just ‘submit’?”

“Z-Zelgadis-san—”

“Do not leave this room until I permit it,” Zelgadis blurted, and the tension left Xellos so quickly that the priest seemed to collapse.

“It won’t last long,” Xellos breathed. “Y-you must—”

“Do not take any action with the aim or effect of hurting me or harming me in any way.”

“Predictable,” Xellos said, and chuckled. “There’s a reason I ensured that it would not last long.”

“All right, fine. Tell me the next logical step.”

“Astrally bind me to this cave.”

“What.”

“Bind my astral form—”

“How is that the next logical step? I’d never get through your shields.”

“Indeed,” Xellos said, pushing himself back up to a kneeling position. “Whyever would I suggest such a futile maneuver? I do hope you’re keeping those questions in mind.”

“Why me. Why this info. Why such an unusual tactic. It’s me because of my powers, I assume—shamanistic magic, instead of Lina’s black magic. My _astral_ powers, in this case. And you’re mentioning the possibility of astral binding because… oh.” He straightened up. “Lower your shields, and do not resist my binding spell.” On Xellos’s shudder, he added, “And don’t take any action until I give you leave to do so.”

Slipping quickly into a meditation state—there was no time to waste, if Xellos had been right about the limitations of the command—Zelgadis pushed his consciousness out into the astral plane, quickly perceiving, in a limited sense, the massive cone of power that was Xellos’s astral form.

Unshielded. Seemingly vulnerable.

Without stopping to wonder about the mechanics, or the purpose behind the request, Zelgadis tugged bits of the astral plane around the cone, pinning the two together and pulling out Xellos’s own energy to complete the binding. It was disconcerting, and yet he did it without pausing to think, because there wasn’t time for him to get sidetracked.

When finally he returned to his body, he felt exhausted just from the effort of suppressing his own curiosity.

“How thorough,” Xellos murmured. “So very like you, when you aren’t too impatient.”

“Yeah, how’s it feel, not being able to run away for once?”

“…Unsettling,” Xellos admitted.

“I’ll bet.” Zelgadis ran a hand over his face. “You know, I still don’t trust that this isn’t just some grand scheme again. But, for the moment… tell me what’s going on—the short version, with none of the runaround.”

Xellos turned to fix him with a piercing gaze. “I am attempting a desperate plan to save Lina-san from my Mistress, who has ordered me to use any means necessary to coerce her into becoming a Mazoku.”

Zelgadis stared at him, hot rage competing with the sudden ice in his veins.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Bind_ vs. _Bound_
> 
> I've always been drawn to drama over comedy, so I play the idea with a great deal less humor; if you'd like a more comedic or off-the-wall version, do go read _Bind_.
> 
> Another quality that distinguishes the two fics is how closely we stick to a canonical interpretation of the characters. Now, I don't mean "canonical" as praise and "non-canonical" as a slight; there's nothing wrong with writing the characters however the heck you want to write them, and there's room in the fandom for all variations. I'm just saying that this line, and lines like it, would never come out of the mouth of the canonical Xellos:
> 
> _"Fucking hell, Zelgadis. You couldn't do a bloody thing about it on your own, even if you tried every spell you knew. Just friggin' relax, and listen to me."_
> 
> That said, I _have_ been out of the fandom for a number of years, so my ability to stick close to canon may be suspect. I hope I'm doing a good job at meeting my own intentions, here.
> 
> Welcome to 2020!


End file.
